Chapter 6 - The Voice Inside the Bear
Detective Ruiz arrived with two officers before midnight.
Nobody touched the teddy bear.
Not me.
Not Allison.
Not even Sophie when she woke and saw strangers standing in the hallway.
She immediately reached for it.
I caught her gently.
“Not tonight, sweetheart.”
“But Teddy sleeps with me.”
“I know.”
Her eyes filled.
I hated them for that almost as much as I hated everything else.
They had taken a child’s safest object and turned it into another weapon.
A crime-scene technician photographed the bear before carefully removing the device.
It was small enough to hide beneath the stuffing.
Detective Ruiz studied it.
“Do you recognize this?”
“No.”
“Allison?”
My sister shook her head.
“When was the bear last out of Sophie’s possession?”
I thought.
“She takes it everywhere.”
Then I remembered.
The hospital.
Sophie had carried the bear almost the entire time.
Before that, home.
School did not allow toys during class, so it usually stayed in her backpack.
“Judith bought it,” I whispered.
Detective Ruiz looked up.
“When?”
“For Sophie’s fifth birthday.”
Six months earlier.
That possibility was somehow worse.
“Could it have been there that long?”
“We’ll find out.”
The next morning, an investigator called with preliminary information.
The device had local storage.
It was voice activated.
And it contained recordings.
Hundreds.
Some were meaningless.
Sophie singing.
Sophie talking to dolls.
Me reading bedtime stories.
Oliver crying.
But others were not accidental.
Judith asking questions.
“Does Mommy yell when Daddy isn’t here?”
“Does Mommy ever leave Oliver alone?”
“Does Mommy scare you?”
Each question was spoken in a sugary voice.
Sophie’s answers were innocent.
“No.”
“Mommy cries sometimes.”
“Mommy says bad words when she steps on Legos.”
At one point Judith laughed.
“Maybe we won’t use that one.”
Use.
I sat at Allison’s kitchen table listening to the investigator and felt something inside me harden.
This was not a spontaneous mistake.
This was a campaign.
Then came a recording from five weeks earlier.
Mark’s voice.
“Is that thing on?”
Judith answered.
“Yes.”
“Don’t record me.”
“You worry too much.”
“Delete this.”
“You need to learn something about leverage, Mark.”
Silence.
Then Mark:
“I’m already doing what you asked.”
Judith:
“You’re doing half.”
“I’m taking pictures. I’m documenting the texts.”
“And the doctors?”
“She hasn’t broken yet.”
“She will.”
The recording ended.
I stared at Detective Ruiz.
“What did she mean, the doctors?”
“We’re checking.”
Mark had told Dr. Sterling I was unstable before our appointment.
Had he been doing it elsewhere too?
I logged into my health portal.
Two weeks earlier I had visited my obstetrician because I was exhausted and having headaches.
The appointment notes included a line I had never seen.
Spouse reports increasing anxiety and fixation regarding infant health.
I had gone to the restroom during that visit.
Mark had stayed behind.
He had spoken to the nurse.
Another brick.
Another witness.
Another lie.
Dana arrived with new information that afternoon.
“The guardianship filing has been paused.”
Relief flashed through me.
“Because of the investigation?”
“Partly. The judge issued temporary protective conditions. Mark cannot remove the children from your care pending further proceedings.”
I exhaled.
“And Judith?”
“Same.”
For the first time in days, I felt as though someone had locked a door on the correct side.
Then Dana placed another document on the table.
“What is that?”
“An email.”
“From whom?”
“A woman named Caroline Reed.”
I did not know the name.
“She contacted my office after hearing that I represent you.”
“Why?”
Dana hesitated.
“She used to date Mark.”
I stared at her.
“Before me?”
“Yes.”
“How long ago?”
“Seven years.”
“What does that have to do with this?”
“She says Judith did something similar to her.”
The room went silent.
Caroline agreed to meet us at Dana’s office.
She arrived wearing scrubs beneath a winter coat and looked like someone who had rehearsed leaving for years.
The first thing she said was, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For not saying something sooner.”
She sat across from me.
“I dated Mark for almost three years.”
I knew that much.
He had called Caroline controlling.
Jealous.
Unstable.
The irony made me nauseous.
Caroline folded her hands.
“When Mark and I were engaged, Judith started telling people I had an alcohol problem.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“She told Mark’s family I was unreliable. She contacted my employer. She even told my mother I was hiding a drinking problem.”
“Why?”
“Because I refused to put Judith’s name on the deed of a condo Mark and I were buying.”
I stared.
Caroline continued.
“One night I became extremely sick after dinner at their house. Dizzy. Confused. I barely remember leaving.”
Dana leaned forward.
“Were you tested?”
“No. Mark convinced me I had mixed wine with medication.”
“Had you?”
“No.”
“Did you report it?”
Caroline gave a sad smile.
“I believed him.”
That hurt more than I expected.
Because I understood.
“When did you leave?”
“Two months later.”
“Why?”
Caroline looked at me.
“Because Judith made a mistake.”
My heart began pounding.
“What mistake?”
“She thought I was asleep.”
Caroline leaned forward.
“I heard her telling Mark exactly what she planned to tell a judge after the wedding.”
Dana’s pen stopped.
“A judge?”
“She wanted him to marry me first.”
“Why?”
“Because my grandmother had left me property.”
The pattern was no longer hidden.
It had existed before me.
Caroline reached into her bag.
“I kept something.”
She placed an old phone on the table.
“I recorded part of the conversation.”
Detective Ruiz looked at Dana.
Dana looked at me.
Caroline pressed play.
Judith’s younger voice came through the tiny speaker.
“You don’t need a strong wife, Mark. You need a wife with assets and weaknesses.”
Then Mark laughed.
Not nervously.
Not reluctantly.
He laughed.
And said:
“Rachel would be easier.”
My blood turned cold.
Seven years ago.
Before our first date.
Before our wedding.
Before Sophie.
May you like
Before Oliver.
Mark had already known my name.
